


Nonscents

by In_Dreams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amortentia, Bonding, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, Post-War, Romance, group project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-20 13:18:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17623097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dreams/pseuds/In_Dreams
Summary: Granger's Amortentia smells like him and Draco can't understand why. More importantly, he can't let her figure it out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Hey everyone. This is just a two-part piece of literal Amortentia nonsense. I hope you enjoy! Part two will be up next week.
> 
> Rated M for coarse language and minor sexual content.
> 
> Alpha love to Kyonomiko and beta thanks on this one to CourtingInsanity.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

                                                                

Counting out his rose petals was proving to be an exercise in futility when coupled with the fact that Draco was simultaneously eavesdropping on the conversation behind him.

At the workbench to his right, Theo had managed to spill half a jar of pearl dust, and was cussing and huffing with more enthusiasm than Draco thought was strictly necessary. With a click of his tongue and a wave of his wand, the offending dust vanished from the floor, the table, and the length of Theo's robes.

His best mate flashed him a grimace and returned to portioning out his ashwinder eggs.

"Honestly." Theo sniffed. "Slughorn's barmier than I'd always thought if he thinks it's a good idea to teach a class full of seventeen and eighteen-year-olds to brew a potent love potion. I mean, imagine the carnage?"

Draco snickered, initiating a slow counter-clockwise rotation of his brewing potion with his wand. "Should be amusing," he acquiesced, distracted by the hushed conversation at the table behind them. His gaze swung across the room to face the door, and in his periphery he could see the nest of brunette curls belonging to the speaker.

"– told you, it's the same as it was two years ago," Granger was saying, and Draco snapped his eyes back to the front. "New parchment, freshly mown grass, and –"

Draco froze, awaiting the rest of her sentence – the part she had failed to reveal two years prior when Slughorn had had a cauldron of Amortentia at the front of the room along with Felix Felicis and Polyjuice. The thought brought an uncomfortable stirring to the pit of his stomach – the Polyjuice potion he'd swiped for Crabbe and Goyle to keep watch outside the Room of Hidden Things.

He swallowed, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind with a concerted lack of care.

"– and  _apples_ , I think."

"Apples," the Weaslette responded, a low haughtiness in her tone. It was still strange to share classes with the current seventh years – but not enough "eighth" years had returned to complete their NEWTs to merit the creation of an additional timetable. "Who do you suspect smells like apples?"

A tension came to Draco's stance, so thick that his hands stopped working, hanging before him like a pair of lifeless arthropods. He clenched his fingers together, forcing his hands to fall to his sides.

In a state of mild and discombobulated paranoia, he nudged his bag under the table with his foot – there were probably two or three apples tucked away in the front pocket. He sniffled, wondering at the potency of his body wash.

Clearly, Granger had already finished her potion and would have, of course, perfected it. Draco could almost taste the scent wafting towards their table on the breezy dungeon draft, but he already knew what it would smell like.

_Books. Plumeria. Ink._

The same as it had smelled in sixth year. And presumably longer, if not for the absence of Amortentia in his immediate presence through earlier years.

"I don't know," Granger was saying, and Draco could picture the way the skin above the bridge of her nose would knit. The way her lips would twist to the side with consideration, her eyes shining with focus. "Do you imagine it'll be someone at Hogwarts?"

"Could be," Weaslette returned, and Draco shifted closer to his own table. "But no guarantee of that, of course. It could very well be anyone."

"Well, we  _know_ it isn't Ron," Granger said, and the two shared a laugh at some sort of inside reference.

"And thank Merlin for that," Weaslette huffed, a smile in her voice. "You were all wrong for each other, Hermione. At least it was short lived."

"Agreed," Granger said with a chuckle.

Draco's jaw was clenched with such a ferocity that it began to throb, and he opened his mouth, rubbing the hinge with a hand.

Beside him, Theo had cut himself on a rose thorn, grousing as he grasped his bleeding finger, his face pale.

"What are you even doing?" Draco drawled, shaking his head. Theo was usually clumsy to a certain extent but this was something else altogether.

Theo threw up his hands, looking disgruntled. "Fuck if I know, today."

" _I_  think, if it  _is_  someone at Hogwarts, you should try and figure out who," Weaslette said with a girlish giggle.

Draco took a cautious step to make his way around to the other side of his table, under the pretense of cleaning up his ingredients.

As a result, he had to strain to hear the conversation, his face jutted forward and tilted to one side; Theo raised a brow and gave him an odd look. Draco fixed his attention on the jar of rose petals he'd borrowed from the classroom stores at the front, careful to keep his breathing silent.

"How?" Granger asked with a chuckle. "As if I'm going to walk up to every bloke sixth year and up and take a big whiff!"

The two girls dissolved into another fit of laughter. Draco couldn't recall Granger being so girlish before this year – perhaps with the pseudomasculine influence of Potter and Weasley exchanged for that of the Weaslette, things were different.

His gaze drifted up to land on the pair; the redhead was wiping a tear at the corner of one eye and Granger was chuckling, shaking her head as she bottled her potion into a set of vials. Her eyes sparkled with the glow of the smile vibrant on her face and Draco looked away.

"Probably not the best idea, but it would be funny!" Weaslette exclaimed. "I'm sure we can come up with something more subtle than that."

"For fuck's sake!" Theo exclaimed, his potion bubbling over and splashing onto the table.

Draco recoiled, lest he end up splashed with any of the Amortentia and wind up pining after his oldest friend or something similarly embarrassing.  _If_  the potion was even effective, given the extent of Theo's blunders.

He met Theo's panicked hazel eyes; his robes were wet with the potion. Exasperated, Draco shook his head.

"Just leave." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sure Pomfrey has something. I'll clean up your station."

"Fuck," Theo moaned, the syllable drawn out, before he turned and fled the room.

Draco looked up again to notice Granger and Weaslette's attention had been drawn ahead to the utter disaster that was Theo's performance, and for the briefest of moments, Granger's chocolate eyes locked onto his.

He looked down at his ingredients, allowing his lip to curl with the makings of a half-hearted sneer.

"Anyways," Granger said, and her voice was soft again. "I doubt it's worth it. Even if Mister Apples-Grass-and-Parchment  _does_  go to school here, he's probably taken."

"Yeah," Weaslette said with a sigh. "Or maybe he's gay – not that there's anything wrong with that." There was a hesitation between them. " _Or_ , maybe his potion smells like  _you_ and honestly, what have you got to lose?"

Draco breathed in the scent of his own completed potion and bottled it as quickly as he could manage, his skin prickling at the overwhelming sensation of it.

"Fine," Granger said, and he caught the hint of a smile curling her lips. "I suppose it could be worth it, but I'm not going to hunt the poor fellow down."

"Please be aware, everyone," Slughorn shouted, interrupting Draco's covert reconnaissance, "that all vials of Amortentia  _must_  be turned in, and not kept for your own personal dalliances!"

"As if that's going to happen," Draco muttered under his breath. He had already seen three people pocket vials of the potion.

Granger snickered and glanced at him for a quick moment before looking away, her cheeks pinking. Evidently he'd spoken louder than intended. He locked his gaze on the table.

Draco's eighth year had been an interesting experience – if by interesting, one meant harrowing, horrific, and humbling. He was a pariah to the vast majority of the school, but at least he had Theo.

And Granger, for all her haughtiness and her snooty judgments, had been the least of the worst. She hadn't been cruel to him, even if he deserved it, but she hadn't had anything to say to him at all.

The first time he'd seen her he had been on his way to a meeting after the welcome feast – she had been made Head Girl, and he, for some reason, had been offered a Prefect position – and he'd recoiled with such ferocity that he'd knocked a goblet of pumpkin juice onto a passing third year.

All Draco had been able to think about at that moment in time was the way Granger had nearly bled out on the floor of his drawing room. How the echoes of her screams still clung to his slumber and the way he'd stood idly by and done nothing to help her. And then, how she had testified at his trial. He'd been beyond mystified to see her there, expecting she'd stumbled into the wrong court room by mistake.

To see her in the Hogwarts Great Hall had been such a stark and chilling return to his old normal that it had thrown him completely off his guard. Her eyes had narrowed, fixed on his, but then she'd shrugged and walked away from him. He'd been unable to keep his gaze from her through the duration of the meeting, and in the afters, he had lingered behind, a cold and empty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Granger had fired him a look, and before he could think through his words with any sort of care at all he'd blurted out, "I'm sorry."

At her wide eyes, her parted lips, he'd steamrolled on in a breath, cursing himself all the while for his lack of composure. "I know – that does no justice to anything, and  _obviously_  I don't expect you to accept this, but I  _am_ , and at some point in my life there was a time where I realized all the nonsense I was spouting was just that, nonsense, but by then it was all –"

"Malfoy," Granger had interrupted, her expression incredulous.

His mouth had snapped shut with an audible click of his teeth. He'd swept a chunk of hair away from his eyes.

But all she'd said was, "Thank you; I appreciate that."

And then as she'd made for the door she stopped, her gaze landing on him again. "It's over now – and it is what it is, and we're all doing our best to move on, yeah?"

"Right," he'd choked, feeling a harsh burst of air chase from his lungs with the word.

And Draco had watched as she walked away, his throat feeling at once thick and dry.

His eyes fell on her hands, quick and deft as she packed up her ingredients. She sealed her jar of rose petals; her fingernails were kept short but groomed and painted with a natural, glossy sheen.

He wondered at her hobbies and interests now that she was through the other side of a war. Whether she had always had an affinity for keeping her nails, but her ceaseless study habits got in the way of such vanity.

Sometimes he wondered the strangest things about her.

Granger stepped out from the far side of her table and Draco, in a panic as she neared, grabbed his jar of rose petals and made his way to the front of the class to return them to Slughorn's cupboards.

But to his horror she followed, her own jar of petals in her hand. Draco was trapped in the store room as she approached the open doorway. He couldn't get by to escape the room without brushing against her; he froze.

She would be less likely to smell him if he wasn't moving.

Granger faltered as she dropped her jar onto the shelf, her eyes fixed on him; Draco relaxed his shoulders, letting them fall. He quirked a brow and made to dash for the entrance.

But she was right behind him, her steps measured and brisk.

"Attention!" Slughorn proclaimed as the two of them passed by his desk. Draco paused, turning to face the Professor and Granger stopped beside him. He inched away from her. "Next class we will begin with something different – a paired project!" Slughorn gave a boisterous chuckle and Granger huffed beside him, folding her arms.

He felt a smirk tug at his lips; no doubt Granger didn't like group projects in case her classmates were inadequate.

"And just for fun," Slughorn continued, looking inordinately pleased with himself, "your partner will be whoever is nearest you!"

Draco shifted another step to the right but the only person even within speaking range was Granger. He felt a groan slip from his lips, and she fired him a scowl. He could have sworn he saw Slughorn's eyes pass right over the two of them.

"Fine," she snipped, eyeing her fingernails. "But if you mess this up for us –"

"I won't mess it up," Draco scoffed. His gaze fell to the downturn of her lips and quickly away, feeling his heart rate escalate in his chest. He met her eyes for a moment. "It could be worse – you could have been standing beside Theo."

Granger gave him a bright, incredulous 'ha' for his troubles. "Thank Merlin for small mercies, then."

Draco didn't know what to make of  _that_.

With a wave of Slughorn's wand, the assignment appeared on the board. It would involve a certain amount of research and preparation prior to the actual creation of the potion – or in this case, they would be creating an antidote.

"Fine," she repeated, more to herself than to him, as if she were steeling herself for the injustice that was being partnered with him. Then her sharp eyes snapped to him. "We'll meet in the library to prepare – tonight?"

Draco swallowed, his tongue feeling intrusive. "Quidditch."

"Tomorrow, then," Granger said, dropping her chin in a patronizing manner. He gave her a feeble nod. "Fine."

He watched her walk away again.

* * *

He wasn't certain, but maybe it wouldn't be the end of the world if Granger realized her Amortentia smelled like him – although Draco didn't want to deal with the inevitable fallout that would come with such a revelation.

Such as the fact that his Amortentia was a blatant replica of Granger's own feminine scent.

Granger was sure to make a fuss and would probably insist that the potion was faulty; she'd state that there was not a chance in all the seven circles of hell that she would ever be interested in him.

There was obviously a certain amount of denial going on in the situation, if Granger somehow harboured a deep-seated and well-buried interest in him.

For all he knew, the interest wasn't romantic in nature – perhaps she wondered at his mental state, or whether he had gone off the deep end and that interest was parading as attraction.

Draco had done wrong by her for years – but he wasn't sure his ego could handle all that.

Added to the fact that there was obviously no future for them, and he wasn't even certain how  _he_  was the object of her interests to begin with – maybe it  _was_  faulty.

 _Maybe_  there was someone else who smelled the same as him, and he'd been so caught up in certainty and discomfort at the thought of her knowing that he hadn't even considered the thought.

Unlikely.

Just like she was probably the only one who smelled like books, plumeria, and ink. And even if there was another, he would still know it was Granger he was scenting.

It would always be Granger he was scenting.

It had been easier to ignore her when she'd been on the opposite side of a war, when he'd been preoccupied with the mess that his own life had become, and then when she hadn't been present for his seventh year. But now there was a distinct lack of distractions in his life and Draco found himself in a state of constant awareness of her and her wild head of hair. He found it to be quite tousled and dashing if he was honest.

He didn't even understand it – he wouldn't have been able to explain where it came from, even if it was to save his own skin. He didn't know how he would possibly begin to tell her.

No, it was best she simply wasn't aware.

Which didn't make the fact that they would be working together on an assignment any less a case of poor timing and bad circumstances.

He fixed his hair all the same, adjusting a small piece that lay out of place, and straightened his tie, smoothing a wrinkle from his shirt. He winced, feeling the heavy roll of tension through his shoulders. This was a terrible idea.

How was he to make it through a Potions preparation session with her?  _Without_  her catching a single whiff of his scent? And without making a total mockery of himself?

* * *

Granger's expression shifted as she approached the table at which Draco sat, his books and parchment already spread across the bulk of the table, leaving a small space for her to work at the opposite corner.

With a heaving sigh, she shifted some of his sheets of parchment into a stack and placed them out of the way so she could sink into the seat across from him.

"I was using those," he drawled, his tone lofty and infused with the impression of rolled eyes.

"They were blank," Granger returned, her lips pressed together. "Look, Malfoy, I don't want to work with you either. Obviously, we're on the same page with –" She halted, lips turning into a frown as she stared at him. She recoiled, her nose wrinkled, and then blinked several times. "Malfoy, have you  _bathed_  in cologne?"

"Oh," he exclaimed, looking down at himself in surprise. "Perhaps that last spritz was unnecessary."

Granger looked as if she were going to be sick; her expression would have been comical if not for the fact that she was clearly repulsed by him.

Better the devil you know.

"Try the last dozen spritzes," she clipped, shifting her seat further down the table with a thick swallow. "If you've got a  _date_  after this or something, here's a hint – a girl likes to be able to breathe."

Draco stared at her, clicking his tongue. "Noted."

She shifted her chair further down, landing closer to the corner he had originally delegated for her. "Let's just do this quickly, then. Have you been through the required chapter? We need to first determine the effects and severity of our poison, and then –"

"I know, Granger," Draco said, waving a dismissive hand. "Believe it or not, I also have an 'O' in Potions." He drew a sheet of parchment from his bag. "I've already assessed the poison Slughorn gave us – but feel free to run your own tests."

She blinked, clearly lost for words, and Draco wondered if it was the first time that had ever happened. Her fingers closed around the corner of the page, and her eyes scanned his tidy printing.

Which, he happened to know, was five times nicer than her messy scrawl.

"No," she said, clearing her throat. "This should be fine."

The underlying admission of trust made him suck in a deep breath – even if it was a simple trust that he wasn't about to botch his own grade to ruin hers.

His lips curled with a smirk as he stared at her. "Good."

"So," Granger went on, looking uncomfortable. "You've done all the preparation work on your own – I expected we'd work on it tonight."

Draco's gaze dropped to the table as he tapped the end of a quill into the worn wood of the surface. It must have been one of the tables that had survived the explosions of war. "No need to linger with me, then."

As if she'd misunderstood his point – which, of course she did, given she didn't know his motives for keeping her away – Granger frowned, a furrow coming to her brow.

"You know, Malfoy," she began, her voice soft as she looked at him through thick lashes. "I don't hate you... and if we're going to be working together, this doesn't need to be difficult."

He sniffed, lifting his chin. "I make everything difficult, Granger." His lips twitched.

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously," she muttered, tapping his assessment to make a copy of it, and tucking her own sheet into her bag. "Fine, then. We'll complete the assignment and if you could do your best  _not_  to make my life miserable in the meantime, I'll count it a win."

Draco stared at her. He couldn't help it – despite his mocking of a moment prior, her words stung. They'd been truth for far too long. "I don't intend to make your life miserable. Not anymore, anyways." He glanced away, assembling his books and parchment.

Granger frowned, sinking back into her seat. "I know," she hummed, "I didn't mean it in that way – I shouldn't have –"

"It's fine," Draco clipped, shoving a stack of parchment into his bag with a concerted lack of finesse; he winced upon feeling the pages fold and bend in his hand.

The obtrusive scent of the cologne he'd doused himself with was staring to make  _him_  feel ill and he needed a shower.

Perhaps he would simply use Theo's body wash instead of his own. But he wasn't sure whether he could forgo apples for the foreseeable future. And he would probably always smell like parchment, given he used the medium on a daily basis.

Cramming the last of his things on top of the now most certainly ruined parchment, he rose to his feet, slinging the bag across his shoulder.

"If we're done here, then," he said, his stomach rolling at the overwhelming stench of himself. He'd never be able to use this cologne again.

"Malfoy –" Granger said, blinking at the abrupt turn, but he was already making his best effort not to run from the library, and from her.

* * *

"You're really quite strange, aren't you?" Granger asked, eyeing him with caution from the other end of the table. "Is there a reason you're seated so far away?"

"No reason," Draco clipped, resting an ankle on the other knee, his hands interlocked behind his head. "So long as we can both reach the potion."

Which he could – sort of. If he shifted from his seat to reach forward.

He'd attempted to use Theo's body wash that morning in anticipation of the first lesson in which he would be working closely with Granger, but something in the formula made him itch, so he had needed a second shower with his own. And now that he was more potently aware of the fact, he could smell the fresh scents of grass and rainwater in the cleanser.

He had refrained from his usual breakfast apple to make up for it, but was already regretting the omission.

"Sure." Granger huffed, shaking her head. She blinked at him, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Say, Malfoy – what does your Amortentia smell like?"

He nearly choked. "Why?"

"Because," she said, a tilt to her head, "you're good in Potions. I'm trying to figure out where the scent of mine comes from."

Draco stared at her, frozen, wondering if he would trip over his words. "Well surely you know where it comes from, Granger; whatever your Amortentia smells like are the things to which you're attracted. It doesn't necessarily signify a person."

"I know," she said, waving a hand. "But nine times out of ten, it's the scent of the person you're interested in, right?"

He sniffled, clenching his jaw. "So they say."

"What do you reckon the chances are of someone smelling like parchment?" Her eyes fell to a stack of it on the table.

"I'd guess high," Draco returned, folding his arms, and then unfolding them. He picked up his quill, tapping it against the workbench. "We all use parchment all the time. It's quite unspecific."

"You didn't answer the question," she needled, her eyes fixed on him again. "Does yours smell like a person, or just a collection of things, or –?"

"I don't know," he drawled. "It's always a collection of things but you won't know if it's actually reminiscent of a person until you scent it on someone. Maybe you've just got a hard on for parchment, Granger."

She scoffed and her eyes narrowed as a flush rose to her cheeks. "No need to be crude."

He snickered. "It's fine. I've got one for the scent of ink, apparently."

She huffed a laugh through her nose, her lips curling as she looked at him. "Ink."

"Ink," he repeated, nodding.

"Well again, anyone could smell like ink," Granger reasoned. "I wonder how specific it truly is."

"Right, okay," Draco said, brandishing a hand. "Say someone smells ink, parchment, and the leather binding of a book. Or  _cotton_ , or toothpaste. How nondescript can you get? Although, I wouldn't be surprised if that's you, the amount of time you spend in the library –"

"Don't say it," she hissed, a smile tugging at her lips again.

He wanted to make her smile more. "I'm only playing, of course – wouldn't want to offend the library, whose Amortentia smells like Hermione Granger –"

She scowled, even as her lips twitched with the fight of a smile. "Oh come on, that isn't even fair – the library is a nonliving thing. It can't smell Amortentia."

"But if it  _could_ ," he hedged, smirking.

She rolled her eyes. "It would probably smell me."

He loosed a laugh, feeling oddly at ease with the banter between them. She laughed as well, her mouth widening with a flash of white teeth that he'd never seen directed his way. Draco swallowed, looking away.

"And you probably smell like ink and parchment anyway," he muttered, jotting a quick note on the blank sheet in front of him to keep from staring at her chocolate eyes.

"Probably," she admitted. "I guess I don't know. I'd have to ask someone who can smell me in their Amortentia."

He tensed, his feet pressed hard into the floor. It took the length of several deep breaths, and many rapid pulses of his heart, to determine that her statement wasn't loaded in his direction.

"I'm sure the sods are plentiful," he finally said.

He didn't know whether he was willing to unpack the look she gave him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hey everyone. I'm little overwhelmed but thrilled by the response to the first chapter of this story! I hope you've enjoyed this little take on an Amortentia trope :)
> 
> Alpha love to Kyonomiko and beta thanks on this one to CourtingInsanity.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

Draco took a large bite of his apple, savouring the tart juice as it met his tongue, his eyes slipping shut.

He was running late for Arithmancy, but at least he didn't have to worry about seeing Granger in Potions today, so he could smell like apples to his heart's content.

"Malfoy!"

"Fuck," he choked, shoving the half-eaten remains of his apple into his bag, wincing at the inevitability of dust and debris leaping onto the juicy innards. He turned on the spot, chewing furiously and wishing he'd taken a smaller bite.

"Granger," he greeted, placing a hand awkwardly beneath his chin as he looked down at her so as to use his fingers to block some of the  _wafting_.

She stared at him, her brows knitted with consternation and maybe she was questioning his sanity – but better than her questioning the scent of his Amortentia again.

"I found an anomaly in our antidote," she said after a moment, shaking her head. "I think we used four drops of mistletoe berry extract instead of three. It's almost impossible to notice, but –"

"But it can have disastrous effects," Draco finished, running a hand through his hair. "Are you sure? We'll need to redo the entire thing."

"I didn't sleep last night, wondering at the shade of turquoise," Granger said. "And I think it might have been my fault – I coughed with the dropper in my hand."

"That'd do it," he returned with a grimace. It would be too late, at this point, to dust off the rest of his apple and he mourned the half-eaten fruit for a moment. "Have you got a spare period today?"

"After lunch." There was an embarrassed flush to her cheeks. "I'm sorry, but I don't feel right submitting it –"

"After lunch as well," Draco said, shaking off her concerns, despite the fact that he wouldn't be able to have an apple with his lunch instead. "Let's meet in the dungeons?"

"Good," she breathed, offering a tight smile. "Thanks for understanding."

Then she rushed off and Draco released a long exhale, his chest feeling tight from taking such shallow breaths.

* * *

"Library after lunch?" Theo asked, dabbing at his mouth with his handkerchief. "I need to finish an essay for Transfiguration."

"Can't," Draco clipped, eating a large forkful of string beans. "I have to meet up with Granger – there was an error with our antidote."

"With Granger," Theo echoed, a strange look to his face. "How did the two of you manage to make a mistake?"

Draco shrugged, taking a deep swig of his pumpkin juice. "Just an accident. We need to redo it before class tomorrow."

Theo slopped some of his own juice down his front and huffed, patting the spill with his napkin. "You're in an awful rush to go meet Granger."

Draco realized he'd been shoveling his lunch back and sucked his teeth, leaning back in his seat.

"Which is fine, of course," Theo continued, waving a hand as his lips twitched. "I'd be in a rush, too, if her Amortentia smelled like  _me_."

Draco froze, his hands clutching the bench at his sides. Of course Theo had overheard, too – Theo always seemed to know everything. His eyes flickered to his mate's, his expression darkening. "Unlikely. We just need to finish this assignment –"

"Right," Theo mused, his hazel eyes shimmering. "The assignment." He gave an exaggerated wink, clapping his hands together and rising to his feet. "Have fun."

Draco frowned as Theo left the hall.

* * *

There was something about working alone in an empty dungeon classroom with Granger that set Draco's nerves on edge. Something about the way the rolling steam relaxed her curls and brought a flush to her cheeks. It rang through Draco's mind with a resounding insistence: this had been a bad idea.

As a result, and with Theo's words fresh in his mind, Draco had been quiet and tense for the bulk of their session, and catching his mood, Granger had avoided speaking to him.

Which didn't bother him. Not in the slightest.

They worked in a cautious silence and Draco made sure to keep his distance, lest she smell him and attempt to piece something together. Really, if she didn't even know who she was attracted to, it was all a bigger mess than he wanted to deal with anyway.

She sniffed when the potion was finished, sweeping some loose curls out of the way of her face as she commenced packing up her things. Draco leaned against the next table, arms folded across his chest as he watched.

Her eyes flashed as she looked to him, opening her mouth to speak, but then she clamped it shut instead, her shoulders stiff.

"Good," Draco clipped, eyeing her through lowered lids. "See you tomorrow in class, then."

"Fine," Granger said, her tone dismissive. She brandished the antidote. "It looks better this time."

"It does," Draco permitted.

It happened fast – Granger lowered the hand holding the antidote as Draco took a step forward, reaching for his own bag. She swerved away, twisting on the spot and losing her balance, throwing out her other hand to catch the edge of the table before she could fall.

Draco's eyes widened as she stumbled towards him, the small glass vial slipping from her fingers and he reached for it, his hands grazing skin and glass as his heart escalated in pace.

Granger's hands slammed down on the table, saving herself, even as her face smacked into the front of his chest. A jolt of energy chased through him at the contact.

Draco caught a breath, the precious vial dangling between two tense fingers as he stared at it, blood roaring in his ears.

She drew back in a frantic leap, her eyes wide and face flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry," she choked, her chocolate stare finding his. "I didn't mean –"

"It's fine," Draco said, his eyes flickering down to his robes where she had landed. He swallowed an uncomfortable lump in his throat, taking a delicate step back. "I shouldn't have caught you off guard."

He set the vial down on the table beside her, watching as she tucked it safely into a pouch in her bag.

But her gaze was fixed on him, on his robes, beneath where his heart still fluttered a furious cadence from her nearness.

Granger exhaled a tight breath, planting her hands against her legs. There was something in her stare as she looked at him again – fear, admonition, recognition – he couldn't tell.

Was she out of sorts because she'd fallen into him, or because she had caught something on his robes?

"Right, then," she gasped, casting an absent wave of her wand to clean up their work space. "I'll see you – tomorrow, in class. Right."

Draco kept his eyes on her, sliding his hands into his trouser pockets. "See you, Granger."

* * *

Whatever had afflicted Granger the day before persisted as she scarcely looked his way in Potions, despite sitting at the other end of the same table. Draco scrawled a pattern along the edges of a sheet of parchment to keep from looking at her.

They would be preparing a second potion within their same partnerships – just Draco's luck that he couldn't yet be rid of her. He missed apples something dire.

The potion they would be preparing, as it turned out, was an advanced healing recipe that Draco had already studied, and it appeared, so had Granger.

She sighed, turning to him once Slughorn had concluded his instruction. "Shall we, then?"

Draco was distracted at the way Theo had managed to trip his partner, Daphne Greengrass, sending the girl stumbling into the next block of tables. He snickered and then blinked, turning to face Granger.

There was something uneasy in her expression he couldn't place.

Well, no matter. If she  _had_  figured it out, this was obviously her reaction. Which essentially proved everything Draco had already been certain of, with regards to whether or not she needed to know it was  _him_.

The answer, clearly, was no, she did not.

"Fine," he grumbled, digging out his ingredients from inside his bag. "Let's just get this over with."

"So," Granger prompted, some time later as she was stirring the contents of their potion. It shone an iridescent lavender, exactly as it was meant to.

"So," Draco echoed, feeling his lips tug into an uncharitable sneer. "What?"

She blinked, glancing away. "I only meant to ask whether you had learned anything more about your Amortentia."

He raised a brow, folding his arms as he turned to face her. "I can't say I've given it much thought."

Lies, lies, and lies.

"Of course." She nodded. "Only, I think I've determined something about mine. I'm certain he goes to Hogwarts… but it  _isn't_  someone I would have ever expected."

Draco froze, his gaze flickering to her. But she was worrying her lower lip, staring across the room.

"In fact," she went on, "I don't think I'm attracted to him at all. I wonder why that is?"

Draco swallowed a wave of bitterness as he nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Maybe it doesn't always work the way we'd like it to."

"And you?" she asked, a furrow in her brow. "Do you know who yours is meant to smell like?"

He couldn't imagine the bluntness of her asking these questions after confessing she had no interest in him. "Yes," he clipped, watching the meticulous movement as she stirred the potion. "And it does – smell like who it's meant to."

"Interesting," Granger breathed. "I only ask because, well, I  _think_  it's your friend.  _Nott_. But – I can't imagine why that would be, since he isn't who I… well, it doesn't make any sense, you see."

Nott. She thought her Amortentia smelled like Nott.

"Theo hates apples," he informed her, feeling his jaw clench and a cold pang in his chest. "Just so you know."

But Granger froze, swiveling to face him, and Draco realized his error a moment too late, far too late.

He wasn't meant to know what her Amortentia smelled like.

"How did you –?" she cut herself off, fixing him with a curious stare. "I never told you my Amortentia smelled like apples."

Draco swallowed, pursing his lips as he turned away. "I must have overheard you saying so."

"And that  _isn't_  the part of it that I smelled on him," Granger went on, the skin around her eyes tight. Her cheeks flared with a rush of heat as she looked away. "It was the same part I scented on you – yesterday. And I can't help but wonder whether it's a common scent."

Tapping his anxious fingers against the table, Draco was reminded that he had switched Theo's body wash with his own in the dormitory showers when he had been attempting to cover up his own scent. Theo must have been using his wash instead.

"It probably is," he clipped, turning away from her. "If he isn't someone you're attracted to, there's nothing saying you need to do anything about it."

He could see the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed, forcing a tight smile. "Anyways, I guess it doesn't matter after all. And yours – does she know?"

"Merlin, no," he retorted, snickering. "She'd skin me if she knew."

Her sharp inhale was soft. "Someone I know?"

Draco gave a noncommittal shrug, wishing he knew where Granger was going with such a roundabout series of questions. She obviously didn't know it was him or she wouldn't be asking, so this inane conversation felt all sorts of redundant, but he couldn't bring himself to shut it down, not when he so greatly desired to know more of what she thought about it.

"You might know her."

Something in the tense set of her shoulders belied her quiet chuckle. "So she must go to Hogwarts, then."

"Right," Draco clipped, his mouth parched.

A musing smile came to her features. "You should let her know. She might not take it so badly as you think. You – you're  _different_ , this year, you know?"

He didn't have the slightest clue what to make of any of this. Did she know and was this a test? Or was she so daft in matters of the heart, despite her brilliance?

He stared at her for a long moment, attempting to discern anything in her expression.

But she turned back to the potion, adding in the final ingredient with a flourish of static and Draco glanced away, feeling a sting of warmth in his face. When she turned back to face him, expectant, he shrugged.

"I'll give it some thought," he said, feeling awash in a wave of bitterness and shame.

* * *

Draco could feel eyes on him.

He froze, feeling tension trace the length of his spine, and turned on the spot, recoiling in an instant.

"The fuck are you doing?"

Granger's eyes were wide as they met his and she took a careful step back, colour rising on two spots on her cheeks.

He wasn't sure which part was more disconcerting – that Granger had been close enough to touch him, or that he hadn't noticed.

She took another step away, a tight, forced smile on her face. "I dropped something on the floor – just behind you." She brandished whatever was in her hand, which Draco observed to be a napkin.

"So you —" he hesitated, carding a hand through his hair "— crept up behind me, dropped a napkin, and then picked it up."

A nervous chuckle. "That about sums it up."

Draco would have rolled his eyes at her transparency if not for the fact that her closeness had left him out of sorts. "And what were you doing so close to me in the first place?"

He fixed her with an odd stare as the flush in her cheeks intensified. It was strange, to see Granger discombobulated, when she so often had the answers to everything.

Quirking a brow, he asked, "You weren't trying to  _smell_  me, were you?"

"No!" Granger exclaimed, a little too voraciously, and Draco swallowed, a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I mean, I was just walking by."

If she thought he was believing a word of this…

She was brilliant with learning and studies but she couldn't lie for her life.

He felt a smirk tug at his lips as he shook his head, despite the unease in his mind at the thought that she had been trying to get close enough to catch his scent. "Whatever you say, Granger."

He heard the noise of frustration deep in her throat as he turned to walk away.

* * *

While Draco glared at a plate of apples in front of him the next morning, he couldn't help but think about the way Granger had approached him the day before.

Obviously, she was still trying to determine who the subject of her Amortentia was, unless she had realized it was him – it would explain why she'd been acting so flighty. But why was she so interested in whether or not it  _was_  him? And if she thought it was him, and she still didn't know what to make of it, there was a chance the potion was faulty after all.

Perhaps he should simply approach her, because with the way things were going, Draco was irritable, insecure and frustrated.

Maybe none of this was worth it anyway. If she found out, she found out, and he would just deal with whatever came – or didn't come – of it after the fact.

There was a small voice – so small he could  _almost_ block it out entirely – that suggested she might actually be receptive to the thought, and that's why she was trying to figure it out. And why she was involving him in her sleuthing.

But if she was interested in him, she would have already realized the truth of her Amortentia.

And so the whole bloody mess cycled back around.

He blinked, startled, to see the object of his thoughts across the Great Hall, talking to Theo, who looked hesitant as he gave her a forced grin.

Granger looked uncomfortable, too, and Draco could no longer wrap his head around any of this. She'd already said she wasn't interested in Theo, yet he couldn't keep the heat from flaring in his stomach at the sight of them.

Not that he had any claim to her whatsoever. Even remotely.

He fought to keep his face impassive when Theo took the seat beside him a few minutes later, Granger having left the Hall.

Theo gave him a sidelong glance, brows high on his forehead as he pressed his lips together.

With a huff of impatience, his stomach churning with envy, Draco swiped an apple from the plate and sliced a careful wedge from the fruit, taking a furtive bite.

"Don't you want to know what Granger asked me about just now?" Theo asked, his face swinging towards Draco.

"Nope," Draco clipped, slicing another chunk from his apple, consequences be damned.

"Fine," Theo said, his tone light and dismissive as he helped himself to a Full English, burning himself on a hot dish in the process with a vulgar string of curses. A long moment passed as he carefully halved a fried tomato slice. "You're going to want to know."

Draco rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath in an effort to manage his temper. "Fine, Theo, what did Granger ask you about?"

Theo's lips twitched. "Your Amortentia."

A harsh breath chased from Draco's lungs and he nearly choked on the wedge he was chewing. "Fuck."

He took one last bite from his apple and left the Hall.

* * *

"You're following me now?" Granger asked, clutching a thick book close to her chest like a shield. Her chocolate brown eyes flickered to him as he came up alongside, fixing her with a hard stare.

"Suppose I am," Draco sniped, keeping pace with her smaller steps. "Where are you going?"

"The library," she replied, raising a brow at him as if it were obvious. "I've got a spare block before Herbology."

Draco ground his teeth, feeling as if he'd had just about enough dancing around her to last him a lifetime. "Good. I need to talk to you."

He heard the quick exhale as she released a breath. "Fine. I suppose we've been putting this off long enough then."

She stopped in the middle of the corridor, turning to face him. Her knuckles were white as she clenched the book to her front like a lifeline. Draco stared at her, blinking several times as he processed her words.

She averted her stare, taking a deep, fortifying breath. "I presume you know  _you're_  my Amortentia."

He hesitated, a furrow coming to his brow as he watched her stoic expression. "I'm aware."

"And you're probably wondering why I haven't acknowledged the fact," she said, her eyes darting to his and away again. "And it's because I've been… well, researching."

"Of course you have," Draco said, snickering despite the levity of the situation. "Trying to figure out how the potion got it so wrong?"

"No, actually," she corrected, her face reddening. "I've been looking into the mechanics of how it works – whether it's based on physical attraction, or a deeper compatibility – especially given I wasn't exactly  _expecting_  it to be you, at first. But then I thought, maybe it was just that… well, you're handsome enough, aren't you?"

He didn't have an answer to that. "But when you  _inhaled_  my robes yesterday," he drawled, rolling his eyes.

"Right," she conceded, glaring at the floor, "that confirmed it."

"Look, Granger," Draco said, carding a hand through his hair. They were still in the middle of the hallway and he didn't know whether she was keen to carry on this bizarre conversation where anyone could stumble across them. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. You've figured it out, and you can just ignore it. We'll both just forget about it."

She gave a little shrug. "It passed my mind. But then I remembered how you never actually told me what  _yours_  smelled like."

He clenched his jaw, unwilling – or unable – to answer her.

She brandished the cover of the book she was carrying and Draco swallowed –  _Magical Attraction_.

"Do you know what it means when your subconscious picks up on an attraction before it's actively acknowledged?" she asked, worrying her bottom lip.

"I can't say I've looked into it," he returned, curious despite himself.

Granger's face was brighter than he'd ever seen it now; her hand was trembling as she shook her head, flipping the pages of her book at random, until she found what she was looking for and thrust the book into his hands.

His eyes scanned the words, his brain jumping into action and swimming with erratic and compulsive thoughts by the time he'd finished the paragraph.

A few words jumped out at him, as if emphasized and he handed the book back, his mouth dry.

_Bond. Attraction. Magical cores._

"So this means, what, exactly?" he asked, swallowing a thick lump in his throat.

Clutching the book to her front once more, Granger fixed him with her chocolate stare. "It means your magic is compatible with my own, and it's manifested into an attraction… between us. It means…"

Draco nodded. "It means… right." He couldn't finish the sentence.

"It means your Amortentia is me?" she questioned with a grimace, as if she already knew the answer but needed to hear him say it.

He clicked his tongue. "Books, ink, plumeria."

The colour drained from her face.

"Our magic is  _bonded_ ," he breathed, staring at her. It certainly explained a lot – like why he'd had it so bad for her for years, despite that he generally couldn't stand her intense level of swottiness. His eyes dropped to the pulse on her wrist and he reached his wand hand out, palm up.

Even before her fingers met his, he felt the raw surge of magical energy flowing from her magical core to meet his, and he would have recoiled if not for the way it felt so good. His magic flared to life at her nearness, coursing through his veins in an elevated state of awareness.

She must have felt it too, if her sharp gasp was anything to go by. She blinked up at him through dark lashes. "Why didn't you just tell me, if you knew?"

He gave her his best effort at a flippant shrug. "Figured you would have thought I was lying, or the potion was faulty, and I would have ended up hexed."

"It is what it is," she breathed, shaking her head. "I only wanted to know."

He swallowed, feeling uncomfortable in her scrutiny. He drew his hand back, sliding it into his pocket. "I thought there was just no way. I didn't want to  _burden_  you with it."

"You went out of your way to keep me from learning the truth." She paused for a moment, frowning. "But you knew yours was scented like me," she whispered, a curious tilt to her head. "And you've known this all along?"

He choked out, "There has always been something about you, Granger. I didn't need to confirm it was you to know it was you."

He stared at her, wishing he was more baffled by the news. If his magic was bonded to hers on such a deep level of compatibility, that would be it for them, that much he knew. A bond like that was more powerful than any other, and  _rare_. Most witches and wizards could only dream to find their other half. It only felt natural, the missing piece to the puzzle he'd attempted to decipher for years. Which made sense, when considering it was about the most natural thing in existence.

Her lips pressed together as she swallowed, opening her bookbag and tucking the book inside. Then she cast a furtive glance around the corridor, and grasping his hand – Draco's eyes widened at the strength of the magic racing through him at the connection – she tugged him into a nearby classroom.

"I wonder if… " she breathed, turning to face him. "You know, just academically, of course."

"Of course," he returned, feeling a smirk tug at his lips at the look of concentration on her face. The amusement dropped as her fingertips grazed his cheekbones; the swell of energy that ran through him at her touch was enough to buckle his knees and drop him from his feet, if not for the fact that he was already so tense.

Her fingers recoiled as she stared at him with incredulity. "Fascinating, isn't it?"

He let out a tight laugh. "Always learning, aren't you?"

"Yes," Granger whispered, her eyes falling to his mouth. He followed her stare, taking a quick breath, but before he could even comprehend the thought that she might possibly –

Her lips were on his, and Granger was kissing him, her hands landing along the curve of his jaw, and Draco pressed his lips, hard, against hers as he trailed one hand along the slope of her neck and into her curls.

His heart was racing, his blood roaring in his ears as her tongue grazed his, cautious but seeking, and he pulled her closer to him. Her magic danced with his and it was unlike anything Draco had ever experienced as his power flared with life and celebration.

When Granger tore away, her eyes were lidded and glazed; she pursed her lips and stared up at him. She whispered, "That was interesting."

"Interesting," Draco echoed in amusement, his brows knitting. "Merlin, Granger –"

He didn't even have words to finish the sentence so he grabbed hold of her, pressing her back against the wall of the classroom, kissing her again. She returned the gesture, her teeth closing over his lower lip and sending a jolt of pure carnal energy through Draco's core.

He pulled himself away moments later, his chest heaving; Granger's eyes were dark as she stared up at him.

A range of emotions flashed across her face as she shook her head, the movement slow and minute. "I almost can't believe this, but for the way it feels."

"I know," Draco agreed, running a hand through his hair. "But so many things make sense now – and magic doesn't know all the rest of it."

_The rest of it_ being schoolyard rivalries, blood status issues, the  _war_.

She clasped his wand hand with hers, entwining their fingers, and he could see the wonder in her eyes at the feel of it – he could  _feel_  her magic entangled with his own.

"Just for the record," he said in a low voice, bringing their joined hands to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand. "I am more than willing to help you learn all there is to know about this bond – if you'll have me."

She stared at him for a long moment, her face falling. "I told you – I can see it. You're not the same person you were before and during the war, caught in the shadows of it all. Maybe…" she swallowed, staring at their hands. "Maybe you were never really that person."

"I think I was," he said, his voice quiet. "Only I wish I hadn't been."

She shook her head. "I choose this." She brandished their hands. "I'll trust in this."

Draco's heart leapt in his chest as their magic swirled between them. His voice sounded disconnected from himself as he said, "Good."

* * *

Draco took a large bite of his apple, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. "This is never going to work, and you're only going to get yourself hurt. Therefore,  _don't_."

Granger waved her free hand as her other clenched his even tighter. "It'll be fine!"

"You aren't a  _conduit_ ," Draco retorted, vanishing the remains of his apple core. "I don't see how this –"

" _Humour me_."

He snickered, shaking his head. "Fine." Her fingers entwined with his as she picked up her wand, her eyes fixed on the cauldron in front of them. He swallowed, feeling the magic being pulled from within his own magical core, and flowing through him into her.

His gaze flickering to her again, he cast the spell – and watched as a flash of light flew from her wand. The cauldron began to stir itself.

Granger released a quiet squeal, clapping her hands together in elation. Draco couldn't help himself and chuckled at her reaction.

Over the past month since they had discovered the truth of the bond that existed between them, Granger had been eager to learn all the ways in which they were affected. This – channeling his magic through her wand – was the latest in a series of experiments.

Draco had been more receptive to most of the  _other_  experiments.

He had always been hesitant when it came to the thought of channeling and sharing magic. It was all too easy for a magical core to burn out through experimentation, but the fact that it had worked only lent credence to the strength of the bond between them, as if Draco had still somehow possessed any doubts.

He didn't doubt anything anymore when it came to Granger. It hadn't taken long for the entirety of the school to realize there was something between them, although they hadn't needed to know the details.

It had never felt like an option for Draco, but Granger chose him when she didn't need to, and as far as he was concerned, it merited a lifetime of loyalty and everything he could possibly offer her. She could have rejected the bond, though it would have affected them both in ways Draco didn't fully understand.

He looked up, drawn from his thoughts at the feel of Granger's fingers dancing across the back of his hand on the table, drawing his magic to the surface of his skin. He smiled, turning his wrist to braid their fingers once more.

"I lost you there for a second," Granger teased, flashing him a grin.

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Not possible."

Her chocolate eyes were warm as they met his.

* * *

Draco stared down at Granger that night after dinner as she drifted in his arms. He'd found her in the Room of Requirement and pulled her near, hands fisting in her curls and lips meeting hers.

Two weeks after learning about the bond between them, Granger had pulled him into a broom closet, determined to discover the emotional and physical depths of the bond.

Draco hadn't taken it personally – but the next time he'd insisted on somewhere nicer.

And so they had taken up spending time in the Room of Requirement – despite the bad memories they both possessed of the room, or perhaps in spite of them – and Draco had already begun thinking of options once they left Hogwarts in a few short months.

He wanted to ask Granger to move into a flat with him – but there were other things he needed to say to her first.

He could feel the magic coursing between them, dancing along his chest where her bare skin met his. In tandem with the erratic beats of his heart. He trailed his fingers along the bare skin of her back.

Granger shifted in her sleep, adjusting her hold on his middle, and Draco smiled.

Draco pressed a kiss to her hair, with a murmured, "I love you."

Her lips curled and her eyelids fluttered though they remained shut. She nuzzled into his chest, her words a soft exhalation as she breathed, "Love you too."

Draco's heart stuttered and raced as his grip tightened around her, smiling. And as he breathed in her scent, allowing his eyes to fall shut at the exuberant feel of the magic dancing between them, he basked in all the ways in which she was his perfect fit.


End file.
